


Melon Fucker and the Peanut Butter Bandit

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Castiel is a bad boy, Food Kink, M/M, Sloppy Seconds, aka cantaloupe, graphic descriptions of the defilement of a muskmelon, meet weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9149686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: “Hi. My uh, my name is Dean Winchester.”“Hi, Dean,” Castiel droned with the other twenty or so adults - mostly male - who were assembled on creaking folding chairs in the musty basement of a squat brick church.“So it’s been… about four years since I started…”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SupernaturalMystery306](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalMystery306/gifts).



“Hi. My uh, my name is Dean Winchester.”

“Hi, Dean,” Castiel droned with the other twenty or so adults - mostly male - who were assembled on creaking folding chairs in the musty basement of a squat brick church.

“So it’s been… about four years since I started…”

Squinting and leaning forward, Castiel found himself wishing that he’d sat closer to the front row. He’d never seen someone so handsome at one of these meetings, and was intensely curious what in particular had brought Dean here.

“… and it’s getting pretty bad. I’m having a hard time holding down relationships…”

Under the too bright white of fluorescent lights, the freckles across Dean’s cheeks popped out from the blush that was intensifying.

“… not that I’ve ever really been good at holding down relationships, you know, but uh, my last girlfriend, Lisa, she caught me, she caught me in the kitchen…”

Dean coughed into his hand, scuffed his worn work boots against the linoleum floor and clutched at the edge of the wobbly wooden podium. He looked down, took a deep breath, screwed his eyes shut, then looked up to the ceiling. Castiel found himself on edge, waiting for when Dean would finally get over his pussyfooting and tell the group why he was there.

Fidgeting, Castiel tugged at the frayed hem of the hole in the knee of his jeans. Black-booted foot tapping the floor, he flicked his tongue against the labret in his lower lip and waited.

“It’s ok Dean,” Garth, the group leader, stated gently, “Safe space here, remember. You can talk to us about anything, this is a judgement free zone.”

Swiping a hand down his face, Dean blew out a deep breath and leaned into the microphone.

“I really love fucking melons and I can’t have sex anymore without thinking about melons and Lisa caught me with a cantaloupe in the kitchen.”

Castiel’s breath caught in his throat, a tingly feeling oozing all warm in his stomach.

Dean was perfect.

-

The coffee was weak and the cookies were stale and Castiel usually skipped out at the end of the group share and hug, but there was a certain pair of downturned green eyes and bow-legs shuffling at the end of the table with a pretty mouth stuffed full of cookies. Dean’s burgundy leather jacket stretched nicely across broad shoulders, a peek of plaid underneath and black shirt stretched across his chest.

Castiel was having very, very inappropriate thoughts for being a member court-mandated support group that was supposed to help with sexual perversions that were interfering with one’s life. Usually, it was boring stuff that shouldn’t be a problem at all if people weren’t so hung up on puritanical morals.

But a melon-fucking habit that was taking over someone’s sex life. Castiel could work with that.

It was awful that he was thinking about picking someone up here, wasn’t it.

“Hey, I’m Cas.”

Green eyes blinked up at him and Dean pulled a hand down over his mouth, wiping crumbs out of the corner of his lips as he swallowed, coughed. “Uh. Hey. I’m Dean.”

“Yeah, I heard you up there.”

Dean coughed again, eyes darting away. “Sorry, I came in kind of late, I didn’t catch why you were here.”

Shrugging, Castiel did his best to offer a disarming smile. “I’m here because I was arrested in a Walmart fucking a jar of peanut butter and got off easy with community service and coming to this support group.”

Dean accidentally spilled coffee on his hand, cursing and setting the styrofoam cup down on the table. “Dude, in a Walmart? Why were you… doing that in a store?”

“It’s more exciting when you can be caught.”

“That’s fucked up man.”

Castiel laughed, and got an earnest smile from Dean in return. It was beautiful.

“Well, I just wanted to let you know that you’re not alone, that’s what this group is about right? There are plenty of people out there who would be glad to … share your perversions.”

Dean’s pretty mouth curved like an ‘o’ and Castiel waited for a question or something, but the other just stuttered and went through a series of facial contortions before settling on, “Huh.”

-

“Here, here feel it.”

There was a hole maybe two inches across cut into the rough surface of a cantaloupe and Dean was cradling it like something precious. Naked, cock hard and beading pre-come already just in anticipation, Dean was a thing of wonder.

Two fingers in, Castiel slid over the smooth wet texture of the fruit’s flesh, then hit the seedy mushy core of the melon.

“Ooooh.”

“Yeah.”

Licking his lips, Dean pulled the lower between his teeth and bit, eyes glassy and dilated wide as Castiel fingered his melon.

Life took him to some strange and wondrous places.

Apparently, after breaking up with Lisa, Dean found himself in a cheap dive of an apartment, a one room studio, and it reminded Castiel of his college days. It was an ex, Balthazar, that had first uncovered Castiel’s exhibitionistic streak, and then later introduced him to many, many more perverted things. Nostalgia colored the past in rose-hues, but honestly, those were some of the best years of Castiel’s life.

The walls in Dean’s apartment were dingy white but there were a few ratty band posters plastered up like an effort to make it a little more personal, the sheets were mismatched blues and plaids, the blinds on the window were crooked and missing slats. Somehow, it only served to accentuate how beautiful Dean was.

Over the past few months, it had taken Dean a little time to warm up to Cas, but patience was a virtue.

“Are you going to let me watch you fuck this melon, Dean?”

Curling his fingers into the seedy, pulpy core, Castiel decided he wanted a turn with the melon too. His foray into the food side of kink had been mostly limited to peanut butter and jam jars, easy to pick up off the shelf, hide between a few clothing racks, defile for a minute then tuck back in.

(He always paid for what he used, too, even if the cashiers gave him strange looks for suspiciously used jars. At least it was easy to hide the mess on the front of his pants with his trench coat.)

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, “That all you wanna do, Cas? Watch me?”

Scooting back on the bed until he hit the wall, Castiel folded his legs cross-wise and took his cock in hand, tugging at the PA through the crown. “For now.”

Groaning, Dean knelt with thighs together and balanced the melon on his legs as he held his cock in one hand and teased it around the cut out hole. Castiel was riveted. Sure, he’d watched plenty of strange porn, and committed more than a few bizarre acts himself, but Dean was… He was the epitome of a man’s-man who could have any girl hanging off his arm and yet here he was.

With Castiel.

And a cantaloupe.

Eyes closed and head tipped back, Dean gripped the melon in both hands and thrust inside. Hips lifting, the softness of his belly curled into a hint of muscles under the pudge as he worked into the melon with long, slow drags. Sunlight came through the broken blinds and cut stripes of gold across his body, highlighting a flush of effort or embarrassment blooming across his chest. Probably both.

“Hey, lay down.”

Castiel tore his eyes off the slide of Dean’s thick cock into the melon - bright orange melon flesh clinging stringy to him - and found Dean focused on him in turn.

“On my back?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, legs together.”

Straightening, Castiel slid down the wall, sheets rumpled under him and Dean straddled across his legs, shifting up and knee-walking over Castiel until he could lay the melon on Cas’ stomach.

Bringing his hands to Dean’s hips, soft and warm, Castiel rocked up and nudged his cock between Dean’s legs, sliding up between the swell of his ass.

“Yeah, sweetheart, just like that.”

Settling heavily over Castiel, Dean trapped the melon between their stomachs and started humping into it again. The cantaloupe’s rind was rough on skin, abrasive, but Castiel was too aroused and distracted to care. The skin between Dean’s legs was soft and hot, and when he braced his hands on the bed beside Castiel’s head, dipped down to kiss him, Cas could only hold on and let Dean do whatever he wanted.

Fingers skimming up along the broad expanse of Dean’s back, Castiel felt the play of muscle shifting as Dean rocked forward faster, mouth distracted and panting open over Castiel’s. He could feel Dean’s body shudder and contract as he groaned through his orgasm, fucking wet-suck noisily into the melon.

“Shit.” Pulling back, Dean sat up. “That was awesome.”

Cas nodded dumbly, mute, rock hard erection trapped under Dean as he sat up and back, pulling out of the cantaloupe.

“What do you need, Cas?”

“Anything.”

“Mmm.”

Lifting up on his knees and getting a rough calloused hand on Cas’ dick, Dean settled back down onto his thighs and guided Cas into the used melon. Holding it two handed, Dean picked up the melon and started fucking it down onto Cas. It was warm inside from him, and even more fucking wet, seeds and flesh the strangest texture. Castiel could feel Dean’s come dripping down messily getting his balls wet.

Hands on Dean’s thighs, Castiel rolled his hips up and let Dean control it, watching him with that stupid satisfied smirk on his face as he twisted the melon around.

Castiel was utterly, absolutely smitten.

-

Naked, sticky, and smelling sweetly of melon, Castiel leaned against the line of counter in the ‘kitchen space’ of Dean’s studio apartment, watching Dean swing his hips and hum tunelessly as he gutted the cantaloupe. Rind was set aside, milky white mess of seeds scooped and set aside, as Dean started cutting the flesh and tossing chunks into a strainer in the sink.

“You eat it afterward?”

“No point wasting.”

With what he deemed the good parts all tossed in the strainer, Dean turned on the faucet and started rinsing them.

“I do like cantaloupe,” Castiel conceded. “Have you ever fucked a honeydew? I think they’re my favorite. Taste-wise.”

“Oh yeah, they’re not as seedy as cantaloupes though, less squish factor.”

“I see.”

Melon rinsed, Dean transferred it to a bowl and took it back to the bed, sitting cross legged and eating with his fingers. Castiel joined him. They ate together quietly, a neighbor’s music coming blurrily through the wall and someone’s car alarm going off outside.

“You really shouldn’t do that uh, kind of stuff, in a middle of a store though. That’s pretty rude.”

Castiel glanced sideways at Dean. “Yeah, I know.”

“I mean, if you like being caught, or watched, or whatever, couldn’t you just make videos and put it on the internet like everyone else?”

“Hmm. That’s an interesting idea.”

They munched on cantaloupe, knees bumping.

Dean elbowed him, “I bet you could make money off it. You’re pretty hot.”

“Just ‘pretty hot’.”

“Shut up. And I’m serious. You could like, take requests.”

“I could.”

“I want to watch you fuck a jar of orange marmalade.”

“Really? You’d want to watch that?”

“Dude, we just tag-teamed a melon.”

“Fair point,” the bowl was empty and set aside. Castiel’s hand found it’s way into Dean’s. “Do you want to make videos with me?”

“Hell yeah.”

“This may be too soon to say, but I have the feeling this is the start of a beautiful thing.”


End file.
